The Enticement
Page 47
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I glanced back at the clock. With a sigh, I put my journal aside, stripped my clothes off, and set the timer on my cell phone. I walked to the center of the room and knelt down. Within thirty seconds my knees were aching. My mind wandered and I thought back to the orders he gave before he left earlier.
He spoke in the firm voice that normally liquefied my knees, but it didn’t work this morning.
“Do you understand, Abigail?”
I was just a bit irritated, so I replied, “Explain one more time, Master.”
“From nine to noon, you will practice kneeling. Five minutes kneeling, five minutes rest. Ten minutes kneeling, ten minutes rest. Fifteen minutes kneeling, fifteen minutes rest. Repeat three times. And while you’re on your knees, perhaps you’ll find it beneficial to meditate on why I have you kneel.” He raised an eyebrow. “Understand?”
It’s really quite simple. He wouldn’t have believed me if I told him again it wasn’t clear. “Yes, Master.”
“Excellent. I want you waiting for me by the elevator at fifteen after twelve. Wear something I won’t have to remove if I want to fuck.” He looked as if he wanted to say more, but instead he kissed my cheek and left.
I dreaded the next three hours. Kneeling. I decided I’d rather be looking for Elizabeth’s pink crayons. I’d rather be changing diapers and chasing Apollo around the house. Hell, I’d rather be working at the library cataloging new releases. Anything but kneeling in the middle of a hotel room, naked, for nearly three hours.
I made a list in my head of all the things I’d rather be doing and when I finished, I ranked them in the order I’d rather be doing them in. The timer hadn’t gone off when I finished so I translated the top five into German, in case I wanted to repeat them to Nathaniel next time I was trying to withhold my orgasm.
As soon as the timer sounded, I jumped up and grabbed my journal. For the next five minutes I wrote exactly what I thought of the kneeling exercise, complete with a detailed opinion of why it wasn’t good for my knees. Although I’d probably regret it later, I finished with a commentary on the questionability I now had surrounding the legitimacy of Nathaniel’s birth. Bastard.
I settled into my kneeling position for my ten minutes and decided I’d make a list of what I needed to buy to prepare the family for summer. The kids needed new clothes, Nathaniel had already taken care of opening the pool, but Apollo needed to go to the vet. I’d made significant progress when I realized I needed to pee.
I tried to put it out of my mind, but all that did was make the need more pronounced.
Damn.
I resisted the urge to squirm, trying to keep myself in proper position. I squeezed my Kegel muscles and my lower body started to tremble. How much longer did I have? Would Nathaniel want me to break position or pee on the floor?
“You can do it. You can do it. You can do it,” I chanted.
Fuck, how much time was left?
And why hadn’t I positioned myself so I had a clock in view?
When the timer went off, I dashed to the bathroom and sighed in sweet relief.
I added busted bladder and the potential of wet carpets to the list in my journal on why this was a poorly designed exercise. Then, knowing I had fifteen minutes of kneeling ahead of me, I went through several stretches.
Before resuming my position, I decided the next section of kneeling time would be spent thinking up painful tortures to perform on Nathaniel’s body. I dropped to my knees and started my plotting by beginning with his head and working my way down. I spent a lot of time on certain sensitive parts of his anatomy. Surprisingly, the fifteen minutes went by quickly.
I used the first few minutes after the timer went off stretching. I was walking toward the bedroom to get the paperback I was in the middle of reading when my phone beeped with an incoming text. I thought about ignoring it, but on the chance it was Linda, I decided to check.
It was Nathaniel. I bit back a groan. Probably he’d decided to add a task to the kneeling torment.
First hour is over. Thank you for doing this for me. I know it’s not easy and your obedience makes us stronger.
Guilt hit me in the gut. “Damn you, you manipulative bastard.”
But it had worked and for my remaining rest time, all I thought about was how I’d failed and how I could fix it. I was actually looking forward to the top of the hour.
Ten o’clock found me kneeling in the middle of the living room, head bowed, butt resting on ankles, palms on knees. For five minutes I worked on clearing my head of anything other than Nathaniel and the bond we shared. His text pained the part of me that longed to please him and wanted nothing more than his pleasure and approval.
He spoke in the firm voice that normally liquefied my knees, but it didn’t work this morning.
“Do you understand, Abigail?”
I was just a bit irritated, so I replied, “Explain one more time, Master.”
“From nine to noon, you will practice kneeling. Five minutes kneeling, five minutes rest. Ten minutes kneeling, ten minutes rest. Fifteen minutes kneeling, fifteen minutes rest. Repeat three times. And while you’re on your knees, perhaps you’ll find it beneficial to meditate on why I have you kneel.” He raised an eyebrow. “Understand?”
It’s really quite simple. He wouldn’t have believed me if I told him again it wasn’t clear. “Yes, Master.”
“Excellent. I want you waiting for me by the elevator at fifteen after twelve. Wear something I won’t have to remove if I want to fuck.” He looked as if he wanted to say more, but instead he kissed my cheek and left.
I dreaded the next three hours. Kneeling. I decided I’d rather be looking for Elizabeth’s pink crayons. I’d rather be changing diapers and chasing Apollo around the house. Hell, I’d rather be working at the library cataloging new releases. Anything but kneeling in the middle of a hotel room, naked, for nearly three hours.
I made a list in my head of all the things I’d rather be doing and when I finished, I ranked them in the order I’d rather be doing them in. The timer hadn’t gone off when I finished so I translated the top five into German, in case I wanted to repeat them to Nathaniel next time I was trying to withhold my orgasm.
As soon as the timer sounded, I jumped up and grabbed my journal. For the next five minutes I wrote exactly what I thought of the kneeling exercise, complete with a detailed opinion of why it wasn’t good for my knees. Although I’d probably regret it later, I finished with a commentary on the questionability I now had surrounding the legitimacy of Nathaniel’s birth. Bastard.
I settled into my kneeling position for my ten minutes and decided I’d make a list of what I needed to buy to prepare the family for summer. The kids needed new clothes, Nathaniel had already taken care of opening the pool, but Apollo needed to go to the vet. I’d made significant progress when I realized I needed to pee.
I tried to put it out of my mind, but all that did was make the need more pronounced.
Damn.
I resisted the urge to squirm, trying to keep myself in proper position. I squeezed my Kegel muscles and my lower body started to tremble. How much longer did I have? Would Nathaniel want me to break position or pee on the floor?
“You can do it. You can do it. You can do it,” I chanted.
Fuck, how much time was left?
And why hadn’t I positioned myself so I had a clock in view?
When the timer went off, I dashed to the bathroom and sighed in sweet relief.
I added busted bladder and the potential of wet carpets to the list in my journal on why this was a poorly designed exercise. Then, knowing I had fifteen minutes of kneeling ahead of me, I went through several stretches.
Before resuming my position, I decided the next section of kneeling time would be spent thinking up painful tortures to perform on Nathaniel’s body. I dropped to my knees and started my plotting by beginning with his head and working my way down. I spent a lot of time on certain sensitive parts of his anatomy. Surprisingly, the fifteen minutes went by quickly.
I used the first few minutes after the timer went off stretching. I was walking toward the bedroom to get the paperback I was in the middle of reading when my phone beeped with an incoming text. I thought about ignoring it, but on the chance it was Linda, I decided to check.
It was Nathaniel. I bit back a groan. Probably he’d decided to add a task to the kneeling torment.
First hour is over. Thank you for doing this for me. I know it’s not easy and your obedience makes us stronger.
Guilt hit me in the gut. “Damn you, you manipulative bastard.”
But it had worked and for my remaining rest time, all I thought about was how I’d failed and how I could fix it. I was actually looking forward to the top of the hour.
Ten o’clock found me kneeling in the middle of the living room, head bowed, butt resting on ankles, palms on knees. For five minutes I worked on clearing my head of anything other than Nathaniel and the bond we shared. His text pained the part of me that longed to please him and wanted nothing more than his pleasure and approval.
